


Strategic Relations

by SensationalSunburst



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, No war, OT3 to OT4, OT4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 00:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: “Gladio, you’re not this stupid-”“Well fuck you too, Nyx.”“You’re not stupid, but I don’t understand this.”“Let me draw it for you then, hero.”ORAfter accidentally walking in on Prompto, Ignis and Noctis, Gladio heads out to blow off some steam. When he runs into Nyx, the glaive has him talk him through his problem.





	Strategic Relations

* * *

“Gladio, you’re not this stupid-”

“Well fuck you too, Nyx.”

“You’re not stupid, but I don’t understand this.”

“Let me draw it for you then, hero.”

Gladio pushed himself off the retaining wall in the glaives training arena and dumped his water bottle into the dust. It soaked in immediately and Gladio pulled an errant pencil from his pocket.

“Noct and Iggy? Essentially raised together, the step between their more-than-brothers to what they are now was a matter of time.” He drew an “N” and an “I” in the dirt and drew a solid line between them, above it he drew heart.  “Ignis takes care of Noctis, it’s- it’s the dynamic there. The caretaking.”

Gladio drew a solid line from the “N” at a diagonal and drew a “P” at the top. He connected the line from the “I” to the “P” in the same way and added a dotted line from the “I” to the “P.” Again, atop each solid line, he drew a heart.

“Prompto and Noctis are something different. Prom isn’t his friend because he’s the Prince, it’s like, it’s as if he’s his friend _despite_ the fact that he’s the Prince. Prompto is the first person that he got to choose on his own. Prompto isn’t a Ready Friend that was handed to him like I was, or like Ignis. The shift in that relationship was natural.”

Gladio pointed at the line between Prompto and Ignis, tapping his pencil just above it like a general giving his briefing.

“Ignis takes care of Prom too. It’s almost too easy. This kid’s parents are garbage and he just, he just shines when you show him even a scrap of kindness. And Noctis loves him; it just makes sense for Ignis to love him too. Noctis can be himself around them, Ignis supports them both, and Prompto brings… brings levity when Noct’s duties start to weigh him down, you know?”

“And you think you fit into this, how?” Nyx asked, pointing to the sad diagram with the bottom of his water bottle. He’d shifted, laying on his stomach with one hand supporting his head and the other dangling over the edge of the wall, idly tapping the bottle against the brick.

“I don’t.” Gladio said.

“You don’t.” Nyx echoed.

“No, look.” Gladio sighed, a short exhalation through his nose and drew a “G” to the side, apart from the triangle of his friends. “I’m Noct’s Shield, obviously- and we’re friends, but there’s always been- there’s always been distance there.” He drew a zig zagged line from the “G” to the “N” but didn’t connect it.

“Ignis-”

“I know about that one.” Nyx said. He shifted again to sit along the edge, legs swinging over the side of the wall. “You were just a brat when you developed _that_ crush.”

(“I’m not- He’d never- I’m not his type.” Gladio snarled. He’d been just a kid, an angry, heartbroken kid when Nyx had forced him away from a training dummy with a light shove to the shoulder. Nyx had found him just after midnight, and it said something for how long Gladio must have been at it as he would have fallen on his ass had Nyx not caught him.

“Did he actually say that?” Nyx asked as he bandged the kid’s bloody knuckles.

“He doesn’t have to.”)

Gladio shrugged and silently drew a zig zagging line from the “G” to the “I.”

“And Prompto?” Nyx asked, taking mercy on Gladio and his pained silence.

“He’s afraid of me.” It was said through gritted teeth, like the admission had cost him something. “You’ve met him. He’s like a little solar flare but he starts like I’m going to trip his head off. He plays it off, but-”

“And you haven’t talked to any of them about it.”

“I’m going to be with these people for the rest of my life.” Gladio stood and rolled his shoulders back, voice deceptively casual. He cleaned his pencil off on his jeans and returned it to his pocket. “I can’t afford to make it awkward.”

“Gods, kid. Don’t let Crowe hear you say that, she’ll kick your ass.” Nyx sighed.

“Good thing you’re not Crowe then, huh?”

“I should still kick your ass. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into you.”

“You’re welcome to try anytime, old man.” Gladio smirked.

“Next time,” Nyx laughed and leapt to his feet in a graceful move, somehow managing to keep his beer upright and pointed again at Gladio, “When I’m fresh and you haven’t been moping-”

“I’m not moping!”

“-yes, you are! Hiding in the training arena, the _glaives_ training arena, because you walked in on your crush, excuse me, _crushes_ kissing.”

“I can’t believe you’re making fun of me when _you_ have a crush on a _princess_!” Gladio’s voice cracked at the end of his shout, echoing around the empty arena. Nyx put both hands up in surrender.

“Blah blah blah,” Nyx laughed, walking backwards, “Go home, kid. Get some rest.”

Gladio hefted himself back onto the ledge and flicked Nyx off before stalking off towards the showers, shoulders just a little looser than they were when Nyx found him an hour ago, sweaty and panting and devastated.

Nyx waited for a moment, taking his time to chug the last dredges of his water and waiting for the final click of the locker room door before speaking up.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Around the corner came the fluffy head of the Crown Prince, followed by his adviser and their little solar flare. The trio had matching expressions of sorrow painted across the features as they all but slunk towards him. Nyx gestured to the diagram still drying in the dust below and raised an eyebrow. The three crowded around it, eyes flickering between the tactical drawing of their own happiness and the damning representation of the one left behind. Prompto snagged Noctis’s hand in his own, locking eyes with Ignis over Noctis’s shoulder. There was a conversation there, Nyx knew; the kind of nonverbal communication born from years of intimacy. They looked away from each other only when Noctis moved, crouching down to further inspect the drawing. Without releasing Prompto, he swiped his hand through the “G” and redrew it in the center of the triangle. He then drew a solid line between the “N” and the “G.”

Prompto immediately reached out and drew a solid line between himself and the “G.”

Ignis crouched on the other side of Noctis, managing somehow not to look out of place in the dirt and dust despite his spotless appearance and drew the final line between the “I” and “G.”

The stood together, a cohesive unit, and quietly thanked Nyx before shuffling out as silently as they came in.

* * *

 

One week, two days, one  glaive family dinner and three angry 3AM texts from the shield in training later, in which Gladio accused Nyx of being a snitch, Nyx threw open the door to the Marshal's office to drop of his latest trainee assessments. He didn’t knock because it was past 5:00PM, the time at which he and Cor occasionally shot the shit before heading out for the night. Tonight however, Nyx was running late; if he didn’t leave now he was going to be late for Plena’s birthday party so, he didn’t knock as he strutted into the Marshal’s office.

“For Gods sake, Ulric, don’t you ever fucking knock.” Cor sighed. He removed his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as Nyx’s face split into an expression of unrestrained glee.

“My, my, my, what’s the meaning of this?”

Ignis, Prompto, Noctis and Gladio were standing before the Marshal’s desk, heads turned back towards Nyx with growing expressions of dread blooming across their rapidly paling faces.

They were holding hands, knuckles white, and Prompto was visibly shaking, his big baby blues swimming with tears.

“This is your fucking fault.” Gladio snarled.

“Of course it is.” Cor’s sigh balayed a man truly finished with the world. “Nyx was the one who instructed you all to do _whatever it was_ you all were doing in my locker room.”

“ _The locker room_?” Nyx said, “No, no I take _full_ responsibility for this. Carve my name into the bricks.”

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” Cor said, and the quartet of fear before him spun back around to face him. “Nobody can pay me enough to deal with this. You four,” He said, “Learn the meaning of ‘caution.’ Keep your goddamn pants on in public, for fuck sake. And you,” He said, pointing at Nyx, “Drop the file, get out of my sight and mind your own damn business for once in your life. They would have figured it out on their own.”

That sent all four sputtering but all Nyx could do was laugh as he tossed the file onto Cor’s desk. He was going to be late.

  



End file.
